Beatnik invited us to his friend’s orphan Thanksgiving dinner in a little apartment in Corona Heights that looked out over the city. A table was stretched out in the living room and we all crowded around it, barely fitting. We drank so much wine. So. Much. One guy had a major head start on the rest of us, but damn he was so hilarious.
After an amazing meal with former strangers, we ended up outside on the balcony, taking in the cool SF night. We sang dreidel songs — something about an apple driedel? — and laughed so hard we were crouched on the floor gasping for breath, trying not to spit up our wine. It was one of those moments in life that you never forget — a random evening; a perfect night.
It was the best Thanksgiving ever.